


Commercial Break

by Caro Dee (Caro_Dee)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Basketball, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:49:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caro_Dee/pseuds/Caro%20Dee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beer, basketball, belching and blow jobs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Commercial Break

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written in November, 2005 for the Boys Being Boys Multi-Fandom Challenge, where men are men, damnit! ShayAlyce and the SenBeta crew kindly betaed this for me.

"Yes. Yes. YesYesYesYES!" Both men surged forward with ecstatic yells, arms pumping in the air, before falling backward against the couch. Having snagged the ball away from Shaq, Orvelle sped down the court with Shaq hot on his trail, determined to retrieve it. But Orvelle was too quick -- one leap and the ball was slam-dunked through the hoop!

"Now, _that's_ the way to do it!" Jim enthused.

"Hell yes. God, I love Orvelle," Blair agreed happily, grabbing his beer and taking a long swig. Resting the bottle against his bare stomach, he let loose a terrific belch.

"Jesus, Sandburg. Warn a guy, will ya?" Jim waved his hand frantically in front of his face to clear away the beer and barbecue chips smog.

"You're just jealous," Blair said complacently, "because you can't match the length and breadth of my manly eructations."

"Says who?" Jim rose to the challenge. "I'll bet my manly belches against your puny _eructations_ any day, Junior."

"Yeah, yeah. I hear you talk the talk; now, belch the belch."

With a determined look on his face, Jim took a deep breath and chugged down the remaining half of his bottle. He sat there, staring blankly at the game and working his jaw back and forth. Suddenly, he opened his mouth and released a long, slow, low-octave belch, then turned to grin triumphantly at Blair.

"Hmm," said Blair.

"Ha! No match for the master. I win!"

"Shuddup and watch the game, Ellison."

"You lose," Jim taunted, ducked to avoid the half-hearted swipe in his direction, and settled back to the important business of watching the Jags beat the crap out of the Lakers.

Blair slid down a little further on the sofa and spread his knees. Slipping his hand inside his boxer, he meditatively gave his balls a good scratch. Between the beer buzz, the adrenaline from the game and Jim being totally hot in just his boxers, Blair was starting to feel a little randy. They'd missed their usual lazy weekend wake up fuck due to oversleeping and Jim being more hot for the Home Depot's tool section -- "Up and at 'em, Chief! Don't want to miss the sale." -- than Blair's. Blair's cock gave an interested twitch and his hand slid up from his balls to palm it firmly. Nice. More than a little distracted by the Jags, he continued rubbing up and down slowly on his cock while it grew and shifted in his boxers.

Jim gave him a quick sideways glance and leered. "Looks like somebody's playing a little basketball of their own."

"How about a little one-on-one, Jim?"

"You wish," Jim snorted, his attention firmly back on the game.

Blair fingered his hard-on hopefully a couple more times, but failed to draw Jim's gaze again. Blair sighed and peered at his beer bottle. Empty. Life sucked. Still... it didn't hurt to try again. In his sultriest voice, Blair murmured, "You know what I could really go for right now?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah, me, too." Blair suddenly found a second bottle pressed firmly against his chest. "Get me one while you're up."

"No way, man. Get it yourself." Blair bent forward to stand both bottles on the table and grabbed some chips out of the bowl. He crunched his way sulkily through the handful while glaring at an oblivious Jim.

The second quarter was counting down the seconds when Blair realized the commercial break was coming up. Slowly, a grin spread over his face. Man, he was a fuckin' genius.

The moment the car commercial came on, Blair was sliding between Jim's knees and worming a hand into his boxers. While Jim was still going, "What the fuck, Sandburg?", Blair had eased out his cock -- What do you know, half hard. Not as cool as you were pretending, huh? -- and was sucking enthusiastically away.

Jim's hands flew to grab his head and, for a moment, Blair thought Jim was going to shove him away. Then, "Fuck yeahhh..." and Jim's hands were holding him steady as his hips rocked forward, driving his cock deeper into Blair's mouth.

Blair pulled his head back long enough to say, "Dials up, man. We've got, like, three minutes and I want my turn, too."

"Damn. Okay, okay," Jim muttered. "Stop talking and blow me." His face went blank as his focus turned inward towards his senses. A few seconds later, Jim was shuddering and gasping.

C'mon, Jim, Blair exulted as the cock in his mouth quickly stiffened. Gimme what you got. Jim's gasps became groans and then Jim thrust one last time, froze and shot into Blair's mouth.

Blair gulped it down, wiped his mouth and leaped to his feet. "C'mon, c'mon," he muttered, shucking his boxers. They were into a beer commercial now.

Jim sat there slumped back on the sofa, eyes shut, unmoving.

Damn.

Undaunted, Blair swung his right foot up beside Jim and grabbed the back of the couch to brace himself. "Open up, Jim," he said, leaning in until his cock bumped against Jim's mouth.

Eyes still shut, Jim scowled. "Can't a man enjoy the afterglow for even a second, Chief?" he complained.

"Nope!" Blair declared unsympathetically. "Time's a wastin'. Don't make me miss my turn, man. It could get ugly."

Jim's scowl deepened, but he obediently opened his mouth and Blair slid right in with a happy sigh.

Finally. Warm, wet Jim mouth. Heaven. He starting pumping away, lost in the amazing, mystical, ecstatic Zen of sensation.

Jim pulled himself together enough to offer up some awesome tongue action.

Blair rocked and moaned away in a haze of pleasure. Suddenly, to his horror, he heard the game come back on. Jim tried to jerk away, but Blair held him in an iron grip. "Don't even _think_ of stopping now or I will kick that TV in. I mean it, Jim."

Jim made an unhappy, disgruntled noise around Blair's cock and began sucking him hard, with all the enthusiasm Blair could have asked for.

"Oh God. Oh yeah... yeah. That's it. Fuck..." The blow job felt incredible, but Blair was distracted by the game going on behind him. Try as he might, he couldn't get over the hump. Shit. Any second, now, Jim was going to reach his limit and leave Blair hanging....

Blair opened his eyes and looked down, to catch Jim staring off to the side, still sucking away in a perfectly businesslike manner, but with a distracted expression.

Blair followed the direction of his gaze to the window. "You asshole! You're watching the game in the reflection, aren't you?" Blair accused.

Jim's only reaction was a smug grunt as he continued to stare.

With an envious sigh, Blair shifted a fraction to one side, to give Jim a better viewing angle, and returned to what he was doing. At least Jim could tell him what he'd missed.

Impatient, eager to get back to the Jags, but desperate to come first, Blair resorted to fantasizing. The sound of cheering and the announcers jabbering in the background and suddenly...

 _He's standing in the center court at Cascade Sports Arena, Jim kneeling at his feet, blowing him in front of the crowd. The Jags and Lakers continue to play around them, but their envious glances make it clear they'd prefer to play Blair's position. The crowd cheers Jim on as he goes down on Blair with precision skill. Blair soaks up the hot, bright lights and the laser beam attention of the huge audience. Oh yeah, getting close now. Reeeeal close!_

 _He scores! He shoots! The crowd goes wild! With a yell, he throws his arms up in a victory display..._

Grinning, Blair thrust one last time and came. Like the pal he was, Jim let Blair finish completely, even giving a couple final licks that made Blair shiver, before firmly swinging Blair's hips back and down to the side. Blair landed on the couch with an, 'Oof!' and lay there, panting and beaming goofily up at the ceiling. He was vaguely aware of Jim getting up and returning. A cold beer was placed in his hand.

"You're my hero, man," Blair enthused and gulped thirstily.

"I think that's the afterglow speaking there, Chief," Jim said dryly. "New house rule: Only one blow job per commercial break."

Heh. Blair smiled affectionately up into Jim's cranky face. "Deal," he said and raised his bottle to clink against Jim's. "Next time, I go first."


End file.
